Fresh Blood
by ItTicklesLikeCrazy
Summary: Random vampire killings in Washington attract the attention of not one gang of hunters, but two. Fentons and Winchesters in the same town, head to head and arm in arm. This is going to take a lot of patience.
1. Prologue

**Mwahahahahahahaha...Okay, I just couldn't resist anymore, I had to do a Supernatural/Danny Phantom crossover...or five. They're, like, my two favorite shows, part of my top five fandoms. Danny Phantom, Percy Jackson (just because, oh wow, I loved those books) Supernatural, and two other things. Not necessarily in that order. But I hope you like this, and all other stories. I kind of want to finish this quick, but hey, who knows.**

**DISCLAIMER: I ONLY DO ONE OF THESE PER STORY SO IF, FOR SOME REALLY AWKWARD REASON I'D LOVE TO HEAR, YOU ONLY READ STORIES FOR THE DISCLAIMERS, STOP READING NOW. I OFFICIALLY PROCLAIM THAT I DON'T OWN DANNY PHANTOM OR SUPERNATURAL OR ANY CHARACTERS, EVENTS, OR OTHER PERSONS, PLACES, THINGS, ACTIONS, ECT. THAT COME FROM EITHER OF THE SHOWS, AND THAT I WRITE FOR ENJOYMENT, MINE AND HOPEFULLY YOURS, AND NOT MONEY. **

**Okay, official disclaimer taken care of, I hope you enjoy.**

"What a pretty appearance," were the first words out of the billionaire's mouth. "I haven't seen her around before."

"Exclusive for you," the demon replied. "Crowley would have come himself, but for the fact that he doesn't want to get his hands dirty, and we know better than to assume that a deal with you will get the dealer's hands a little messy."

"Smart," the man observed, inclining his head to the girl. "Where did you grab her?"

"Western South Dakota," the demon replied, playfully twiddling with a strand of curly brunette hair. "A long trip, but we know you want something pretty to look at while you deal."

"Let's cut to the chase, then," the white-haired man intoned. "We both know that you can't have my soul, and not just because I'm not selling, but because no matter what you do, you can't push it anywhere but Purgatory or the Ghost Zone."

"Correct," the demon agreed. "Which makes me curious what you wish to offer."

"One thing at a time," the white-haired billionaire said, holding up a finger. "You were right to assume I want a little favor that includes getting you hands dirty. I've grown weary of trading blows with an adversary to achieve my ultimate goal. I want you to kill a man named Jack Fenton, and anybody who gets in your way."

"And in exchange?" the demon pushed, perching on the edge of Vlad's desk and crossing her legs, tight black dress stretching slightly.

"Information," Vlad offered.

The demon's eyes narrowed, because she knew this man was dangerous and clever, and she wanted to get her money's worth. "Information on what?" she questioned cautiously.

Vlad held up a finger and waggled it back and forth. "Nuh, uh, uh," he sang. "No spoilers."

"Then no deal," the demon hissed, not entirely serious. Vlad Masters was a tricky and powerful man, and if he called in a demon, he wanted something. If he called her back, then she could push, just a little.

"You think I'm going to let you glide away that easily?" the white-haired man she'd turned her back to questioned, and she felt a hand on her shoulder. "Besides," he inclined his head to the side. "It would be a waste to let such a beautiful girl just walk out on me."

"What's the information?" the demon asked, eyes growing serious and flicking to solid red, except for the whites.

"Ooh," Vlad, held up his hands, releasing her shoulder in the process, and put a fake expression of fright on his face. "Scary eyes!" The billionaires eyes flicked to all red, no whites, no pupils, just red. The demon bit her lip slightly, but she knew that Vlad knew exactly what he would be dealing with if he killed her, and it wasn't worth it to him. Hellhounds on his ass, no way.

"Information?" the demon demanded again.

"What would you say if I told you that, in exchange for the extermination of Jack Fenton and anyone who dares stand in the way of that kill, I had a piece of information which would make your little hellfire community dance?" the billionaire wondered, setting a hand on her shoulder.

The demon pulled away. "And that would be?"

Vlad leaned in close, and the demon resisted the urge to lean away. His hand brushed her hair back and his lips touched her ear softly. Just a whisper came, but she heard enough to set her eyes widening. "I'm not the only one of my kind."

"What," the demon demanded, head spinning. "Another halfa? But you're dangerous and powerful, we should have been able to sense another one of you come into existence."

"Not seven years ago," the white-haired male sing-songed, and the demon's eyes widened even more.

"Who?" she hissed, in spite of herself.

"See, that's the information I'm willing to hand over in exchange for you burning the Fenton household to the ground, with Jack Fenton still inside. The identity of the second halfa, who, I must admit, has grown even stronger than myself." The demon was, of course, a demon, but was still very shocked at the idea of another half, and one even more powerful than the one who stood before her.

"You understand, this is why I had to call on the assistance of you demons in the first place," Vlad explained, spreading his hands flat on the desk. "Jack Fenton is protected by the halfa, even though the buffoon doesn't realize what is right under his nose." The prospect of going up against a halfa, which could very well destroy her with little effort, and who'd been able to defeat Vladimir Masters, just to kill some rival of Vlad's, well, not very much worth it, if she had much say in it.

"Fret not, little demon," Vlad purred, reassuring her, or attempting to. "The second halfa has faced vampires, werewolves, ghosts, wendigos, anything you can imagine…" The demon was wondered how this was helping her not worry. "…except demons. Only once has he faced a demon, and it beat him brutally. Both were lucky that the demon was there for another reason, because halfa number two could have either been destroyed, or he might have found that pretty little ability engraved into his core, and smote the demon right there."

"And how am I supposed to know that he won't find that power this time and destroy me?" the demon wondered, glaring at the white-haired man.

"You can't," the white-haired man hummed harmoniously. "But in the case that you fail, I'm willing to supply the information to another demon to carry to Crowley. And besides, how would your boss respond if you let this opportunity go? Not very well, I suppose?"

The demon weighted the possibilities for a while, then finally locked eyes with the sleazy scumbag in front of her. "Okay," she growled, and Vlad took her face in his hands and locked lips with her.

"No, I'm just rounding the corner now," Danny spoke into the phone. "No, no, I'm fine, Jazz. I'll be home in, like, a minute. That fight wasn't even hard."

"I just feel like something bad just happened," Jazz mumbled from the other end of the line. "Just a gut feeling, you know."

"Well that can't be good," Danny said, who had learned by now to trust any feelings that came across a member of the little gang that knew the secret. "We'll talk about that later, but don't you have a college class to be getting to?"

"Nearly forgot!" Jazz exclaimed. "Between worrying about tests and making sure my little brother wasn't blown up since the last time I called, I've hardly had the brain capacity to remember those tutor sessions I promised I'd give. Sorry, little brother. Gotta go!"

Danny chuckled at his sister's antics. "Yeah, okay, catch you later, Jazz." Danny snapped the phone closed and slid it into his pocket before touching down on the ground of an alley where nobody could see, and transforming back to human. Humming lightly to himself, while pondering what Jazz had said about a bad feeling, he rounded the corner.

Danny pulled the key from his pocket and unlocked the front door, pushing the door open with a flat palm while releasing the doorknob. Immediately, he noticed the darkened lights and absence of noise from the lab. His brow wrinkled. "Mom?" he called out. "Dad?" When there was no reply, he tried again. "Guys?"

Fear took hold of Danny's heart, and, following his instinct, he hurried down the hall to his parents' bedroom. The door was locked, of course. Danny could have just phased through it, but he didn't want to risk his parents being on the other side and seeing him be ghostly. Crazy. At twenty-one, seven years a ghost, and he still hadn't told them. Absolutely crazy.

Danny squared his shoulders and took a step back from the door, and then to more, so his back was pressed to the hallway wall, then charged at the door, putting ghostly strength with his own physical strength and bursting through the door, sending it flying off it's hinges. Okay, maybe a little too much ghostly strength. And maybe he should have knocked. But all his doubts were vanished when he saw the scene displayed before him now that the door was gone.

A pretty woman, no older than twenty-six, stood in the middle of the room, turning to Danny in shock. Little ringlets of gingery-red hair hung around her heart shaped face, and her perfect white teeth clicked into a smile formed by ruby-red, nearly blood-stained, lips. But Danny wasn't too focused on the woman, but what lay behind her.

"Mom?" Danny whimpered, not believing what he saw. "Dad?" His parents' bodies were spread eagle on the carpet of their bedroom, a long red line on each of their throats, signaling them having been slit and drained. The carpet around them was stained dark red.

"Ohh," the beautiful woman purred, drawing Danny's attention back to her. "You must be the son. Sad that little Mommy and Daddy have left you?" Danny noted the blade in her hand, and more so, the red liquid that clung to the edge of it.

"You," Danny hissed, locking eyes with the woman. "Why would you do something like this?"

The woman tilted her head, and Danny nearly fell back in surprise as her irises and pupils flicked red, not expecting something magic-y or ghostly. Almost. "It's all about the deals, sweetheart," she murmured seductively. "You know, I may come back in a few years and use that body. You're quite a looker."

No longer able to control his temper, Danny shut his eyes as they flashed florescent green, since her not knowing may be his only advantage. When he felt his eyes fade back, he opened them and looked into her now green eyes, the red having gone.

"What are you?" Danny wondered, trying to reign in his anger. It would do him no good to let her think he was going to attack, or make her think she was less dominate than normal.

"A demon, sweetheart," the woman sneered, her lip curling in amusement. "And I'm afraid your pops got on the wrong side of a few important people. Mainly, the King of Hell and the future ruler of the Ghost Zone."

Danny's eyes narrowed considerably. "Vlad," he growled out, voice gristly. He could feel his fingernails biting into his palms because of tightly curled fists, but he didn't care. His parents had just died. His parents had just died. His parents had just died!

Danny could have sworn the woman looked a little surprised for an instant, but her smooth, calm, collected attitude returned soon enough, along with a smug-as-hell look on her face. Danny wanted to wipe that expression right off her ugly mug. "You know more than I thought you would kid," the woman said, winking. "Hey, I suggest you don't come for revenge, because if you don't, then I don't have to kill you."

"I don't have to come for revenge," Danny growled. "I can have it right here."

The demon tilted her head back and laughed, and laughed long. "As if you could take me," she giggled, wiping a fake tear from her right eye. "You're just a pathetic human." She looked back to where Danny had been standing, and her laughter stopped abruptly, because he was standing in an obviously balanced fighting pose, like a panther ready to spring. The pose wasn't what had her upset though, but rather the fact that both his hands and eyes were practically exploding with green energy.

"It's you!" she hissed, backing away and realizing just how much trouble she was in. "The second halfa!"

"I'm surprised Vlad told you about me. He likes to boast about being one of a kind. But I suppose he got tired of getting his butt kicked back to Wisconsin and sent somebody else to get destroyed." A wicked smile spread across the boy's face. "A demon? Never fried one of those before. I wonder what toasted demon smells like? Let's find out, shall we?" Danny advanced towards the woman, Cheshire Cat grin wide on his features.

The demon, panicking, tilted her head back, ready to smoke out, but before she could a hit landed on her jawline, knocking her back into the wall, not to mention the awful sting it brought. The demon looked up, seeing a green and black figure towering over her, and closed her eyes, thinking that she would have rather been torn to shreds by Crowley, because at least he might think she was a bit useful and show a little leniency.

Danny knocked he demon around again and again, letting rage and sorrow from the scene before him, his parents bloody and dead, dead, dead, come into the fight. Punch after punch, blow after blow, each stronger than the last, and each supercharged with ecto energy, extra painful for the demon. Eventually, the ectoblasts and kicks and punches and blows were enough, and the demon passed out from pain and tram. Deciding he'd ask what to do with a demon from another ghost later, or creature, he let her be, turning to his parents. Finally, he let his sorrow overtake him, and his knees buckled, and he fell down beside the bodies and sobbed.

That's how the police found him an hour and a half later, called by the neighbors for disturbing sounds, which had been Danny's wails of despair, and they had to pry his hands from their cold dead ones, loading the bodies onto gurneys and into an ambulance, despite them already being dead. Danny barely mustered enough strength to turn the woman's body invisible, so they wouldn't take his one source of information away, and be curious on her state.

Half an hour later, Danny's since returned enough so that he took out his cell phone and hit speed dial three. It was picked up on the second ring, and his sister's cutting voice answered. "Danny, this better be important, I'm in the middle of a tutor session."

Danny took a deep breath. "Our parents are dead." And silence on the other end.

**And this is only the prologue. I have a lot more for you to enjoy, and I'm even producing more now. Hope you liked, and have a nice day.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Cool, so, first I'd like to thank all reviews, followers, favorites, and ect. Also, majorly thanking those who created Phineas and Ferb, because I typed this entire chapter just listening to songs from that show. Sad, huh? Whatever. I think I might just type a lot more words right here so I get more words on the little meter thingy on the outside of the story-ma-bob so I meet my word goal, but I guess that's kinda cheating.**

**ENJOY!**

"Pullman, Washington," Sam stated. "There have been six deaths in the area, all with the blood drained completely, and sixteen mysterious disappearances, all over a period of one month. Twenty three days ago two hunters arrived in the area, but besides a few vampire captures, there's been no progress."

"And we were sent in for back up, and/or discovering the bodies of the two hunters?" Dean concluded.

"Not the second part," the younger Winchester brother said. "Garth says that they check in regularly, just to let him know that they're alive, a procedure insisted upon by the girl, the older of the pair."

"So this is a team up, then." Dean didn't state it as a question. "What are we looking for?"

"Garth told me that they're related, brother and sister, but they don't look too much alike. The girl, Jazz, is twenty-seven. Garth said that you could probably spot her out a lot easier than the boy, Danny, because even though he's taller than her, Jazz has bright red hair that you can see from a fair distance, while Danny has shaggier black hair. Danny's two years younger than Jazz, placing him at twenty-five, and both of them have blue eyes." Sam rattled off, while Dean glanced around the restaurant for anyone of that description.

"What are they like?" Dean inquired, covering all the bases.

"Apparently Danny's a natural hunter, much better than his sister. He's pretty protective of her, according to Garth, and after he learned to trust Bobby he would leave her behind at the safety of Bobby's as long as he could get away with it. She didn't take to that, but fortunately Danny always got the job done pretty quickly. At the success rate, along with the sheer skill, Garth's begun to suspect that Danny has a lot more years of hunting than he should have under his belt, because their parents only died about four years ago, which vaulted them into the hunter society, but Danny is way too good at hunting things and finding cases for just four years, and when they first begun, Danny was as paranoid as beginner hunters are around everybody and everything, like he'd already known what was out there before Bobby found them."

"And Jazz?" Dean pushed, while taking another bite of his burger.

"Jazz was like a normal hunter, but for the fact she acted a bit calmer when Danny was around. In fact, as far as I can tell, there are only two things that set Jazz apart from the normal hunter criteria."

"Which are?" Dean took a swing of beer, looking at his brother expectantly.

"One is that her sheer protectiveness of Danny and her whole personality clashes with the fact that she allows Danny to do all the super-dangerous stuff, because she seems to think that he can do all these things a heck of a lot better than her, which is probably true, but still, she's an older sibling. Another is that not only did she go to college, she went to Princeton and got a full degree and a major in Psychology, even evolving into a pretty good psychologist the year before her parents died, in which she only stopped because another creature Danny had been after came after her, and she wouldn't have lived if Danny hadn't bashed it's skull in with a fire extinguisher."

"So she went to college, but Danny didn't even though he had an opportunity?" Dean cocked an eyebrow. "And Garth thinks he was hunting before their parents died. Seems likely."

"Yeah," Sam agreed. "And if he was, Jazz knew about it." Both brothers nodded.

"Well, I don't see anybody fitting their descriptions," Sam finally breached. "And just sitting here isn't going to help us find them."

"Alright," Dean agreed, and stood up. Sam laid a few bills on the table next to the discarded dishes now empty of food, and they strolled to the door, sending one last furtive glance around for anything suspicious. Nothing stood out, so Sam opened the door, though it opened far easier than it should have. Thinking nothing of it, Sam continued forward, only to bum right into somebody and feel warm liquid slosh up all over him.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!" a female voice exclaimed, and the girl it belonged to produced a napkin out of her pocket and began and wiping at his shirt desperately, trying to get the stain out. "Sorry, sorry, I'm such a klutz."

"It's okay, it's not your fault," Sam reassured her, looking down at the girl and getting a good look of her. A small gasp escaped him, not because she was stunningly gorgeous, though she was attractive, but because long red hair cascaded down her back, flicking around wildly as she rubbed energetically at his shirt.

Sam looked up, and watching the scene from a few feet away was a black-haired male who looked about twenty three, or twenty five. He was watching the scene with a look of faint amusement on his face, like he was entertained by the happenings.

Sam took the napkin from the red-headed girl. "You wouldn't happen to be Jazz and Danny, would you?" Immediately, the black-haired boy's eyes locked with his, and then surveyed Sam and Dean up and down, seeing how much of a threat they would be.

"Who's asking?" the black-haired man, or Danny, asked cautiously.

"We're Sam and Dean Winchester," Sam introduced. "Garth sent us."

"That's great!" Jazz enthused. "Danny didn't want to ask for help," she sent her brother a dirty look. "But the more the merrier, right?"

Danny sighed. "I told him we could handle it."

"Danny," a hint of annoyance snuck into Jazz's voice.

"But now that you guys are here, we may as well do it together," Danny finished, rolling his eyes at his sister's antics. "We better get going so we can talk somewhere where that creepy homeless man can't eavesdrop." He motioned with his head to a ragged looking man with an old soup can in his hand, turning around. Both Sam and Dean blinked, but Jazz just rolled her eyes. Danny started to walk away.

Jazz beamed. Confidentially, like she was sharing a secret, she leaned in and whispered, "Danny doesn't like to accept help, he's afraid other people will get hurt. I've been trying a psychotherapy technique I learned at Princeton on him, about persuading him to trust the people he's supposed to."

"I heard that!" Danny called, but to Sam and Dean's surprise, he was already halfway down the street, and Jazz had been whispering. "Do you really think trusting people we don't know is smart, Jazz? Really?" Danny didn't even turn to look at his sister as he talked.

"Well when you say it like that," Jazz said in a normal voice, apparently confident Danny would hear it. Danny just kept walking, though his shoulders moved up and down in an apparent shrugging motion. Jazz made a little choking-grumbly noise. "Little brother, wait up!" Danny quickened his pace, and Jazz huffed. "Danny!" she called in protest, and hurried after him.

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. "Psychotherapy?" Dean wondered.

"Apparently she majored in psychology," was Sam's reply, and both brothers took long strides to follow the red-head, who, in turn, was following her brother. They caught up just in time to see Jazz stand helplessly on the curb as she watched a silver Volvo drive away. A moment later, her phone beeped, and she took it out.

Aloud, she read the text message. "'For psychoanalyzing me and messing with my brain, you get to walk to the hotel, and show the others the way. Have fun!' Ugh!" she stomped her foot. "I'm just trying to make sure he doesn't stab every eavesdropper and other hunter we ever meet in the jugular vein!"

"Don't worry," Sam assured her. "You can catch a ride with us."

"That'd be great," she said in a way of acceptance, grinning at them. "Thanks."

"Come on," Sam instructed, and Jazz followed them to the Impala.

"Ha!" she barked a laugh. "His loss! Danny would have a total fangirl moment over your car. We used to drive a black 1969 Plymouth Roadrunner, with a white stripe across the front. It got crushed to dust by a shifter in Sacramento who thought it was a good idea to piss Danny off." Jazz half-winced at the memory. "Dead, dead, dead. That's what Danny said. I never thought he was too much of a car nut, but every guy loves his car, I guess. He also wouldn't listen to any pop music in the car, saying it would affect the essence of the car, and even went so far to crush my favorite CD with his bare hands!"

Dean laughed, opening the driver's side door. "You know, I'm beginning to like this guy."

"Of course," Sam murmured, sliding into the passenger seat and shutting the door. Jazz blinked her aquamarine eyes, paused for a moment, and then opened the back door and buckled in, taking care not to slam the car door, because she already knew Dean would get a little miffed. She'd spent enough time with Danny to know at least that.

The drive to the hotel, which Jazz instructed the brothers on where to go, she briefly considered that getting in a car with two strangers, even if they were hunters, proven, was a bad idea, but she'd heard enough from Garth to know that these guys couldn't be demons or ghosts, tattoos and such, and she could call Danny with a flick of her finger, and he'd get the message, so even if he was pissed, he'd come.

**Heh, heh, that last paragraph was totally just because after I wrote it it occurred to me that it was stupid to get in a car with two strange men, especially being a petite red-headed woman.**


	3. Chapter 2

**Hehehehehehehe...I feel the urge to sudddenly update this, maybe attract a little more attention to the story, and, I guess, myself. Also, once I get a chapter down, its like I'm compelled to post it. I should probably get that checked.**

**For some reason I wrote like five super-long poems today, and about a dozen haikus, which I love. Poetry today, I was struck by inspiration, and I quickly preserved a masterpiece.**

**No, not really. I have a very strict rule about not actually reading the poems I've written until I've slept off the surge by one night, because poems are impromptu for me, and my inner editor will come out if I look at them too soon and end up ruining them completely.**

**You guys want a poem? Probably not, so I won't post one here. ONWARD AND UPWARD! Because I've really delayed enough, so i'll just, heh, you know, actually put the written word for you guys to read here now. Lemme just copy...paste...viola!**

Jazz and the two Winchesters were greeted by the sight of a closed and locked door when they got to room 215 of the Klyenst Hotel. A small sheet of stationery was taped to the door, a message scrawled across it in black ink.

"'Pick the lock, Jazzy-pants'," Sam read aloud.

Jazz made a frustrated sound. "You know I can't do it as well as you!" she yelled, grabbing the note off the door. There was another note under it, though, and Jazz's blue eyes narrowed as she read the words. "'Then learn'. Danny! Come out here so I can kick your smart-ass!"

"There's another note underneath," Dean informed his brother and the enraged girl. He pulled the second note off and smirked as he read the third one. "'I'd rather not, thank you. I like my smart ass without any boot prints.' Man, I'm really beginning to like this kid. What, is he psychic or something?"

"No," Jazz replied. "Just very annoying, and we have lived together for twenty-five years. We've learned the other's basic traits, and what they'll scream when locked outside of their own hotel room. DANNY!" she yelled. "I know you're in there!"

All three of them listened carefully for a response, and after a minute, they got it. The water in the bathroom turned on. Danny was taking a shower. "Urrgh!" Jazz made a frustrated sound, and pulled a hairpin out of her hair. She stuck it in the lock and jiggled it around, her face angry.

"Wait, don't you have a lock pick?" Sam inquired the red-head.

Jazz shook her head, sending orange locks flying. "I did, but Danny asked for it right before he left me stranded. I was expecting something like this as soon as he drove off, and even with the lock kit, it takes me a while. Danny's just a natural hunter, and he only drags me along because he knows that the demons and ghosts and all the other things that go bump in the night know who I am, and he's afraid they'll find me. He can't stand losing another person, but I know he'd leave me with Garth, and before that, Bobby, all the time if he could. But, you know, after I stowed away in the trunk a few times I think he got the message."

"You stowed away in a trunk?" Dean wondered, giving the girl a look.

Jazz shrugged innocently. "He's my baby brother, and even though he can kick some demon ass and I can hardly dispatch a werewolf, I'm not letting him do this without anybody else as backup. We might fight a little, sure, but I'm not giving up on him. You guys understand that, right? You two are brothers?"

"Yeah, yeah we can understand that," Sam agreed, thinking back on some of the adventures with his own brother.

"Hey," Dean put a hand on Jazz's wrist, and slowly took the bobby pin from her. "I'll do this. But, hey, I have a question. If you spent so much time at Bobby's, how come we never saw you or even heard of you?"

"You didn't?" Jazz's eyebrow went up, but then slowly descended back to normal. "Danny probably asked Bobby to not tell anybody about us, including you, though I'm pretty sure Bobby would have considered it. He loved you guys, you can just tell by the way he bragged about you. As for why you never ran into me when Danny left me behind, it's because I doubt you guys dropped by Bobby's every time you finished a case, and Danny would always come pick me up immediately after, or at least check on me in person, and if the case was so far that he couldn't make it in two hours at three hundred miles per hour, he'd take me with him, and lots of cases were pretty far from Bobby's, not to mention me taking precaution to sleep in the back of his car after he left me behind seven times in a row. After Bobby bit it, Danny was resigned to taking me with him always, not that I had to many issues with that."

"Smart girl," Sam commented, and a click came from the door. Dean pushed the door open and gestured both Jazz and Sam in, handing Jazz back her bobby pin.

"Thanks," Jazz replied. "But since I don't see the logic in renting another room, we should work out whose going to sleep on the couch and whose gonna take the floor."

"Umm!" Dean held up a finger. "That reminds me, this hotel is pretty fancy for hunters, do you guys travel in style, or…"

"It's haunted," Jazz said, walking over to the armoire between the two queen beds and opening the second drawer. She brought out an EMF reader and tossed it to Sam, who caught it deftly. "You might want to walk a couple meters from the room," she instructed. "We've got some…stuff, and that kind of spikes the EMF. But Danny chose this hotel specifically because he seems to be a walking EMF reader himself. Sometimes it freaks me out, because sometimes he can just look at a person and tell me that they're a demon, or a vampire, in this instance. Already done it three times in this town alone, and we've only been here, what, twenty days?"

"Kid like that could be useful," Dean commented. He took out his own EMF reader and flicked the switch. Automatically, all the little lightbulbs on top lit up red. "So you said that this is because of the…stuff in this room? What stuff effects EMF?"

"We have, erm…" Jazz looked momentarily uncomfortable. "We have ghost weapons that operate with ectoplasmic power. Have you guys heard of the name Fenton?" Before either of the brothers had time to respond, Jazz continued on. "Apparently they're just a joke in the hunter world, but Danny and I and a few friends improved their weapons design and made it so that they're more functional on all sorts of creepy crawly things, not just ghosts."

"You have ectoplasmic weapons?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"Yeah, I guess," Jazz replied, shrugging. "We find them pretty useful at times, just because, you know, high tech energy blast. We could let you guys have one or two, but we don't have that many raw materials to build more, and ectoplasm is scarce sometimes."

"Seems like they would be useful," Dean murmured. "No loading, no pause, you just blast anything that comes close with supercharged ghost essence."

"Not exactly…" Jazz trailed off. "Danny might get a little mad at that. He doesn't like the whole 'shoot first, ask questions later' policy most hunters swing." Jazz nodded for emphasis. "See, like last year a vampire showed up at our hotel with her hands drenched in blood, and I did the natural thing and brought out the machete, but Danny grabbed it from me and explained that she was a friend from one of those mysterious hunting trips he went on without me. Her name was Ashlyn, and she lived off donated human blood and cattle blood, and she came to Danny because there were a couple of amateur hunters after her, so he went and talked some sense into him while I had a very awkward lunch with her. The entire time she berated me on hunters always reaching for the knife first, and then later, when we were going to San Rosa, California, Danny gave me a long speech of how to not paint all creatures besides humans with the same brush, or even all vampires."

Dean and Sam blinked at each other, not so much baffled or shocked as just a bit ruffled.

"You gossiping about me?" Danny's voice wondered, and all three hunters turned to see a drenched Danny with a tight-ish black tee shirt over his torso, and wearing torn up dark jeans with no shoes. "Just because I like to know somebody's actually killing people before I kill them? Is that a crime?"

"No," Jazz said clearly. "I'm very proud of you for seeing the good in people, and non-people, just you giving long-winded speeches is a topic to talk about, especially since you stranded me and locked me out."

Danny grinned at his sister. "You didn't see to have much of a problem with that with these guys." he motioned with his chin to the two Winchesters. Then he turned his attention to Dean. "Hey, can you turn that annoying thing off, we've already determined the hotel is haunted, you don't need to aggravate my ears with that whining."

Sheepishly, Dean realized the EMF reader was still on, though he hid his momentary embarrassment and flicked the switch on the reader. "So," Dean continued. "What have you got so far on the ghost?"

"Not much," Jazz replied, producing a small notebook from under the bed she was sitting on, as well as a ballpoint pen. She opened the journal to a middle page, which was only about a quarter full with writing. "It hasn't actually hurt anybody, so we think it's benevolent, and there have been no reports of any kind of ectoplasm. There's no apparent obsession I could find, which probably means this guy is neutral, and could be anywhere in the hotel at any time. But we do know he's an adolescent male, and that he's been sighted in the women's locker room before."

"Which leads us to believe he's a perverted dick," Danny added helpfully, lounging on the other bed. "We need to find him and talk him into going to the Zone, where he can get beaten up by ghost girls instead of human girls."

"The Zone?" Sam inquired.

Danny snorted. "You sure you guys are hunters?" At the Winchester's unimpressed stare and Jazz's glare, he rolled his eyes and continued. "The Ghost Zone, a pocket dimension leading to about a billion other dimensions, if you can find the right door. Everybody goes there after death, unless they majorly piss off their reaper and choose to stay here like a chump. But mostly, everybody goes there after death, every time for those who die repeatedly, but everybody who moves on doesn't remember it at all. Those who don't, and aren't in demand by The Attic and/or Basement, or, you know, Purgatory, they stay in the Zone, and become ghosts. The Ghost Zone is the ghosts' home, and it gives them power, which sucks for the violent ones, but the benevolent ones are cool."

"But, wait," Sam held up a hand. "What's the difference between those ghosts and these ghosts. You make it sound like there's a difference.."

Danny shot the younger brother a curious look. "There's not very much of a difference, actually. You guys know that spirits produce ectoplasm, right? The powerful ones in this world sometimes leave it where they go. Well, in reality, all ghosts are made up out of ectoplasm, and the more powerful ones can use it to their benefit. Possession, overshadowing, ecto-beams, ghost rays, laser eyes, levitation, teleportation…" Danny trailed off. "Telepathy," he muttered under his breath. Jazz made a small gaspy sound and glared at her brother, who returned the look with a sheepish grin. "Later," he told her.

"But anyway," he turned back to the brothers. "When you salt and burn a ghost, it doesn't destroy them or give them an express ticket to where they're going, they get sent to the Zone, where they're given another opportunity to go. If they choose to stay, they're stuck."

"Stuck?" Dean questioned. "Like, stuck, stuck?"

"Definitely." Danny nodded grimly. "If they're so attached to something at that instant, and they say they want to stay, they're not going anywhere unless they destabilize, and that means that they'll float around as ambient energy for the rest of their days, or, I guess if they're powerful enough, they can tear their way into another dimension, but they have to be, like, King Pariah to do that."

"Okay, I'm sorry, but whose King Pariah?" Sam interrupted. "This whole thing is confusing."

"King Pariah was the king of the Ghost Zone," Danny clarified.

"But not anymore?" Sam pressed.

"Somebody beat him up," Danny waved a dismissive had. "That somebody is _technically_ King of the Zone, but he doesn't want to be, so the Council of Ghosts dubbed him with the power, as well as access to both he Crown of Fire and the Ring of Rage and let him walk…and I'm confusing you even more, aren't I." At the affirmative nod, Danny shrugged. "It's just politics, nothing you guys need to worry about. We just get rid of the ghost and the vamps, and then go different ways. If you guys are lucky, you'll only need to worry about the Zone when you die, however many times that will be." Danny cocked an eyebrow, "What, five times already, was it?You know what, never mind."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, and both brothers nodded. Jazz looked a little confused, but nonetheless resilient.

The Winchester brothers looked to each other, baffled and confused, and they knew this was going to be a long hunt.

**I hope that it wasn't too evasive for your tastes. Too explanatory, too open with information. Please pardon me in remembering that Dean and Sam could very well save Danny and Jazz's lives a lot if they're working together, and Danny has to divulge some information. That may be another reason Danny doesn't like working with others, because a certain amount of information must be shared, and that tends to make people a little more loose lipped because when sharing some information, you slip out other tidbits. Until next time.**


End file.
